


Breathe Life Into Me

by iridiumring92



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: First Kiss, Kissing, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Secret Relationship, Vignettes, episode ignis references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 18:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13595973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridiumring92/pseuds/iridiumring92
Summary: 4 times Noctis kisses Ignis, and 1 time Ignis kisses Noctis.





	Breathe Life Into Me

**Author's Note:**

> For Ignoct Week 2018 Day 1: Stolen Kisses.

I.

The first time Noctis tries, he’s sixteen and Ignis is eighteen, and they’re in the Citadel gardens together. Noctis is grinning, full of energy, while Ignis follows and watches him with a faint smile. There are guards stationed outside the gates, but Noctis is sure he and Ignis are too deep inside to be seen or heard.

“Highness,” Ignis asks, crossing his arms, when Noctis finally stops walking, “what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” Noctis says. He looks up into the veil of tree branches above them, leaves fluttering and branches bobbing slightly in the breeze. Sunlight falls in shafts through the spaces between them. “It’s just . . . been a while. Since they let me go anywhere.”

“Oh.” Ignis watches him, and Noctis wonders if he’s at a loss for words, for once. He keeps his eyes averted.

What he’s told Ignis isn’t a lie, but his heart is pounding for a different reason altogether. He’d planned to say something else now, but for some reason the words he’d rehearsed are long gone. “Ignis?”

“What is it?”

Noctis strides toward him, and Ignis has half a heartbeat to look surprised before Noctis tips his chin up and kisses him. His lips are soft, pliant, but he doesn’t respond, not like Noctis wants him to. Eventually he places a hand on Noctis’s chest and gently pushes him away.

“You’re the prince,” he says, and Noctis realizes he’s blushing. His childhood friend and advisor, _blushing._ “You’re not supposed to want . . .”

Whether he means to end that sentence with _your own advisor_ or _another man_ or just _me,_ or maybe all of the above, Noctis doesn’t care. “Well, I do,” he says. The words bring a nervous smile to Ignis’s lips.

“All right,” he concedes, taking Noctis’s hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

 

* * *

 

II.

The second time, it’s summer in Insomnia, but Noctis has spent the afternoon inside with the air conditioning. Ignis lies back on the bed in his quarters at the Citadel, recovering from a migraine. The day before, he’d refused visitors and kept the lights off in the room, the curtains drawn, but this time he’s allowed Noctis in.

Noctis sits on the bed beside him. For the most part, they’re silent, remaining still in one another’s presence. But though Ignis looks exhausted, he doesn’t seem to be able to sleep. Noctis reaches for him, caresses his shoulder even though he knows he shouldn’t. Ignis’s eyes flutter closed.

Cautiously, Noctis moves his hand up to Ignis’s temple, smoothing his hair. Ignis opens his eyes again and looks toward Noctis, questioning. Silently, Noctis leans down to him, hesitating a heartbeat before brushing his lips against Ignis’s. A reminder. A promise. A reassurance. Gradually, Ignis kisses him back.

He doesn’t know what will happen if someone walks in and interrupts them. He does know that he wishes he could heal Ignis. What else is the magic in the blood of the Lucis Caelum line good for?

After a moment, he pulls away from Ignis, whispering, “I’m here.”

“I know,” Ignis whispers back, a small smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.

 

* * *

 

III.

Ignis is twenty, back at the Citadel during a break from university. He’s beautiful. Noctis keeps having the urge to push back the stray hair that’s fallen over his forehead, or brush his fingertips over his lips. They’re alone in Noctis’s apartment, the one he stays in outside the Citadel, passing a bottle of wine between them. One of the servants in the kitchen gave it to Noctis a couple of weeks ago, asking only that Noctis promise not to tell anyone who gave it to him. This is a story he doesn’t tell Ignis until they’re already halfway through the bottle.

As the minutes pass, Noctis slides closer to Ignis, eventually resting his head on his shoulder. Ignis drapes an arm around Noctis’s shoulders. Noctis takes the last swig of wine and leaves the bottle on the coffee table.

He puts his hand on Ignis’s other shoulder and leans in, closing his eyes, feeling their shallow breaths against each other’s lips, before he closes the distance. Ignis doesn’t push him away. Their kisses deepen, from short, closed-mouthed kisses into longer ones, and eventually into kisses that involve each other’s necks and jaws, kisses that leave Noctis aching with want. But he’s also tired, and more than anything, he wants sleep.

He falls asleep in Ignis’s arms, but when he wakes up, Ignis is gone.

 

* * *

 

IV.

Noctis stands opposite Ignis in a Duscaen forest, far enough from the Regalia that they shouldn’t be heard. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, and his voice is decibels away from shouting. So is Ignis’s, for that matter.

“We almost died!” Ignis says, one of his hands slashing through the air to make his point. “Highness, that was an incredibly dangerous thing to do, and you _know_ it.”

Noctis shakes his head. “We would’ve been fine, Ignis, you’re just being paranoid! You’re not my mother! You don’t have to look over my shoulder every time I take a step!”

“Maybe I wouldn’t, if you didn’t make such foolish decisions,” Ignis snaps. “You could have killed yourself, or any one of us!”

“I could die any day,” Noctis points out. “The empire is after me. All. The. Time. I might walk outside a haven and get shot. Or they might decide to lay siege to a town we’re staying in. Who the hell knows? This isn’t any different. And it’s not your problem, it’s mine.”

Ignis puts his hands on Noctis’s shoulders. When he speaks next, his voice is deadly quiet. “It _is_ my problem,” he says, “because I worry about you. If I were to lose you, I would be lost, myself. And it’s . . . incredibly selfish of me. But I need to keep you safe.”

Noctis is silent. He watches Ignis, but Ignis has his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him. Noctis takes a step closer and kisses him.

It’s long overdue—they’ve been apart too long without touching, and the kiss quickly turns desperate, their hands losing all gentleness where they touch. Ignis backs up against a tree, and Noctis presses closer, so that their bodies are aligned. His lips part, and he probes Ignis’s mouth tentatively with his tongue. Ignis arches against him with a groan.

“Highness—” Ignis sounds as if he’s fighting for air. “We can’t do this here. We’ll be discovered.”

“Yeah,” Noctis agrees reluctantly. Before he can take a full step back, though, he adds, “Don’t call me ‘Highness,’” and leans in to kiss him one last time.

 

* * *

 

V.

Ignis lies in bed beside Noctis, feeling the warmth of the sun as it streams over them. The ring on his left hand glints gold in the sunlight. His heart races every time he looks at it.

Beside him, Noctis lies still in sleep, his chest rising and falling evenly. His dark hair is mussed, but his face is serene, his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. He’s beautiful.

Ignis shifts, and his movement rouses Noctis, who blinks one bleary eye open to look at him. “Morning,” he murmurs.

“Good morning,” Ignis says, gently stroking Noct’s hair out of his face. “You slept a while.”

“I know.” Noctis rolls onto his side to face Ignis, but he’s unable to keep his eyes open. “Last night was a lot of work.”

“Work?” Ignis repeats, smiling. “I must be doing something wrong.”

“No, it was good,” Noctis says. “I think you’re doing everything right.”

His eyes start to close again, but Ignis leans forward and presses a kiss to his mouth. Noctis reaches out for him, pulling him closer, and soon one kiss becomes two, which become several more. Ignis can’t stop kissing Noctis. He’s felt forever like once he’s started, he won’t be able to stop himself.

“I will never stop thanking the gods that you survived that night,” he whispers.

“Me, too.” Out of breath, Noctis relaxes, and Ignis collapses down beside him again. “And I’ll never stop thanking the gods that you healed.” He reaches out to trace the edges of the faint scars beside Ignis’s left eye and across his cheekbone. “Even though I’d still love you if you didn’t.”

Ignis laughs, but the sound is strangled. The two nights in question are still very real, close and painful enough to make his eyes sting. Noctis senses what he’s feeling. He sits up, leaning back slightly against the pillows, and motions for Ignis to rest his head against his chest. Ignis settles back in Noctis’s warmth while Noctis runs a hand through his hair.

“Do you want to get up?” Noctis asks after a few minutes have passed. Usually Ignis is the first to suggest it, to coax Noctis out of bed so that they can make breakfast, but today, for some reason, feels different.

“Only if you do,” Ignis says instead.

“I don’t.” Noctis presses a kiss to his temple.

Ignis closes his eyes, reveling in Noctis’s warmth. At some point he’ll want to get up, of course, but for now he’s content to stay here.

For now, the most important thing is that they survived.


End file.
